


I'm not your protagonist.

by randomrosewrites



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Alastor is Bad at Feelings (Hazbin Hotel), Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Heartbreak, Jealousy, M/M, Multi, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-23
Updated: 2020-05-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:34:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24332911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/randomrosewrites/pseuds/randomrosewrites
Summary: Seeing the person you love fall for someone else burns worse than anything in Hell. Especially when you care deeply for both of them.Features one of the author's self insets on the fic 'Dapper Dresser', Brooke and mentions/alludes to other events in the book.
Relationships: Alastor (Hazbin Hotel)/Original Female Character(s), Alastor (Hazbin Hotel)/Reader
Comments: 18
Kudos: 99





	I'm not your protagonist.

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Dapper Dresser](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20537630) by [AppleDaddyo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AppleDaddyo/pseuds/AppleDaddyo), [Caffinatedkitti](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caffinatedkitti/pseuds/Caffinatedkitti), [NotBrooke](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotBrooke/pseuds/NotBrooke). 



> No I don't think I will write something happy.
> 
> The world of Hazbin Hotel and its characters belong to Vivziepop.

You weren’t a good person. 

You weren’t horrible, but you weren’t good either. You never were.    
So when you fell smack dab in the middle of Hell, you couldn’t -  _ didn’t  _ \- blame anyone but yourself for the consequences of your actions. 

It was a miserable beginning. You were always on the offensive, always cautious, usually hungry and almost always strapped for cash. It was rough. You had to learn things the hard way. More than once did you barely stagger home with wounds or rips and tears in your clothes. Sometimes pickpocketed, other times badly injured from a fight.

But you survived, and adapted, and kept yourself alive throughout the years. 

Then one day, a woman came up to you, offering free accommodation, food and clothing. You didn’t believe her for a second. (After all, it had the name ‘Happy Hotel’) Yet, you gave it a chance. She turned out to be 100% serious. The only requirement was self-betterment, and to pitch in every now and again. (Which you were more than willing to do.)

Another sinner came to live in the hotel shortly. Angel Dust, you learned, was his name. He didn’t really care about being better or helping out at the hotel so much as he cared about a free place to live that wasn’t terrible. 

To each their own, the last thing you were going to do was lecture someone on how to live their life. You were fairly acquainted with Angel. That was all. You said hello to him when you passed him in the hallway, but you never friends. 

Aside from the dilapidated walls and mouldy carpet, it was ok. 

You had food in your belly, a roof over your head, a nd people to talk to.

It was more than you could ask for. 

The happy hotel was your home. 

\---

Things started to get crazy after the extermination. 

Charlie, Vaggie and Angel had all returned in a mess of exhaustion and stress. Vaggie had spread herself out on the couch, nursing a headache while

Angel announced something about ‘needing fucking air’ before he left again, slamming the door a bit too harshly.

Saying ‘fuck it’ and deciding to relax, you laid down for a bit of shut-eye on a random crate. 

Your wish was short-lived as the sound of voices squabbling woke you up shortly after. You rubbed your face, groaning as you rolled to your feet. 

“...her here and you didn’t tell her what we were doing?”

“Babe, babe, relax! I Brought her here...” 

Angel and Vaggie were unsurprisingly bickering again. Except this time there was someone new. 

A girl, looking very lost, nervous and confused, stood awkwardly to the side of Angel. Her hair was ruffled and clothes were tattered, both an indication that she had just fallen down. 

How interesting, she looked almost human. 

She started following Charlie towards the rooms when she saw you and stopped. You walked up to her, extending your hand. 

“Hello,” you told her your name. “How are you?”

“Brooke,” She took your hand warily, relieved when you didn’t jump or harm her. “I’m, uh, ok.” 

You doubted it. Her eyes were slitted and skirted around over every little thing nervously. 

“I get it,” you pointed over to charlie. “You should go follow her, get freshened up.” You didn’t want to overwhelm her with too much just yet. Best for her to try and get settled in first.

“Yeah…” Brooke trailed off, playing with her fingers nervously “Um, I’ll just...go...” 

You nodded, and she scurried after Charlie. You watched her retreating form with a small smile on your face.

How precious. 

\---

After Brooke returned freshly dressed and joined Angel and Vaggie on the couch, you walked over to Charlie, who was sitting alone on the crate you had claimed earlier. 

“You alright?” You asked. She looked pitiful, sitting hunched over, staring at the floor with a pout pulling her rosy cheeks down. 

“Yeah…” she sighed. “Rough day.” 

You nodded, taking a seat beside her. You reached out to place a hand on her shoulder but hesitated, letting your hand fall to your lap. “Do you think some air will help?”

She was quiet for a long time before she gave a slight nod. It was so small, you would have missed it if you weren’t looking at her. She got to her feet and shuffled like a kicked puppy to the door, slipping outside.

Kaite Killjoy’s voice was the only noise in the room as she recounted the juiciest events from that evening. Angel had gotten involved in a turf war? Wow, and at the worst possible time, too. 

You half-heartedly listened to the program. You had almost zoned out completely until suddenly-

One knock, followed by three quick ones, a split-second pause, then a fourth one, and then two slow ones after a beat. 

Your eyes shot open. The hair on the back of your neck was standing up, a feeling of anticipation in your stomach. 

Something was  _ wrong _ .

The door opened and closed twice. Then Charlie entered the lobby, slightly paler than usual.

“Hey, Vaggie?”

You had a bad feeling. One that you couldn’t explain or describe, but still knew it was real. 

“What?”

One that felt like fate coming to claim your soul. 

“ _ The Radio Demon is at the door! _ ”

\---

ALASTOR. The Radio Demon. 

An outspoken, powerful, mysterious creature who does whatever he pleases because  _ he can.  _

A dangerous, sadistic, cunning demon with a taste for flesh and proficiency in torturing. 

An attentive, analytical, curious being who couldn’t seem to leave Brooke alone. 

\---

  
It was late at night, technically early morning. The rush and roar of the city’s traffic gave a nice background ambiance as you rested on the balcony of your room. Your legs were kicked up against the railing when the door opened to your right. Turning, you saw Brooke coming out on the neighbouring balcony. She slumped against the rails, head hanging as the wind tousled her honey-brown hair. 

It took her a minute before she actually noticed you. She yelped and jumped back in shock when she did.

“Um. Hi.” She laughed, embarrassed. “Sorry I didn’t see you there.”

“It’s alright, come to enjoy the view?”

She straightened up, shaking her head.“I couldn’t sleep.” 

“...night terrors…?” you asked hesitantly. You assumed that it was hard for her to adjust to life in hell. You used to wake up countless times in the night by the bad dreams that plagued your mind. 

“I-” she ran a hand through her hair, fighting with herself. “Yeah.”

You waited too long before answering. “Would talking about them help?” 

She bit down on her lip and shook her head furiously. 

“Alright…” You didn’t push the subject. 

You both sat in silence for a long time. It wasn’t weird but you could still feel the tension she held. 

“Can I ask you something…?” Brooke finally spoke.

“Sure.” 

“How did,” she choked, clearing her throat before trying again. “How did you get over...this?” 

“Hell?”

A nod. 

“...if I’m being honest, you don’t….” you didn’t want to mislead her, but you didn’t want to lie to her either. “You get used to some things, you can’t to other ones. You just learn to live the way you want to live, and focus on the good things.”

“What  _ good things _ ?” her voice cracked in the middle of her sentence.

“The things that make you happy.” 

More silence. You looked away when Brooke angrily wiped at her eyes with her sleeve. 

“What makes you happy?” she asked hoarsely. 

Your lips quirked at the image of a tall, red demon. “Anything that feels nice.”

She tried to hide a giggle as a cough. You rolled your eyes, letting her mind sink to wherever it wanted to go. The joke seemed to temporarily take some of the weight off of her shoulders. 

“You should try and get some rest for the day ahead,” you said when you noticed her eyes drooping. “Nifty won’t wait for you if you lag behind.”

“I won’t be able to sleep in my room.” She grimaced with unpleasant memories. “I’ll just toss and turn.”

“My bed’s available,” you cocked your head towards your room. “I don’t usually sleep much anyway.” 

“I…” she blinked owlishly at you. “...I’m not sure if I-”

“Oh, _I’M_ not going to sleep with -  _ beside you _ ,” You stuttered over your words, blood rushing to your face. “No I wouldn’t - look you don’t  _ have  _ to but uh...you’re welcome to have it if it’ll give you peace of mind.” “...You’re sure…?” 

“Positive.”

After another minute of contemplation, then she nodded. Alright, sure... I’ll just-” she turned to go back inside before your voice stopped her. 

“Just jump over the side.”

“Wha-” she spluttered, “But- we’re so high up?”

“It’s not that big of a gap,” When you extend your arm out over the balcony, your hand is about a foot away from touching the other side. “You’ll be fine.”

She seems doubtful, looking at the cars below on the road dizzyingly. 

“Brooke.” her name made her look at you. “Trust me, trust yourself.”

She wiped her palms on her pants, pulled her hair back, and then wiped them again. She took a deep breath, then closed her eyes-

And jumped.

She slept soundly that night, with your protective light scaring away the shadows and the  _ thing with the monocle _ that curled in the darkness of the night. 

\---

Something about Alastor instantly intrigued you. From the second he paraded himself into the hotel -  _ even changed its very name - _ you knew he was something different. 

He held himself both physically and metaphorically above others. He talked as if everyone was listening to him, like he was performing. He had class, his own flair and style.

You were interested in him. In his mannerisms, his speech, his goals, his plans. 

You wanted to know more about Alastor. 

Vaggie’s speech hadn’t frightened you, it had only intensified your desire to be closer to him.

He radiated chaos, and you were drawn in like a moth to a light.

\---

You found Brook lying on the couch, next to the hearth after one misplaced blow by Angel had ripped apart her abdomen. While it wasn’t enough to kill her, you didn’t doubt that the feeling wasn’t very pleasant. 

Her eyes fluttered open when you squatted at her side.

“Hey,” you cooed softly to not cause her distress.“How do you feel?”

A layer of sweat coated her lips. “Hurts.” She rasped. Her very breath felt warm. Too warm, despite her body being wracked with cold shivers and twitches. 

You pulled her thick, wavy hair away from her forehead. She gasped in relief, hazy eyes closing one again. She murmured something incomprehensible, before settling into another fitful slumber.

You watch over her exposed form until the fire burned down to hot coals and the chills left her body. By the time a dapper dresser showed up in the morning to harass her with soup, you were already gone. 

\---

While your eyes were drawn to Alastor like he was the only light in the room, he looked straight past you. Eyes always on  _ her _ .

On one hand, you were grateful. You didn’t want Alastor to treat you the way he treated Brooke at the beginning. You’d pass on the paranoia, anxiety, panic attacks, and being driven to multiple mental breakdowns.

No thanks.

But on the other hand-

You wanted him to see you. Your curiosity drove you to the internet, to old records, to any information you could get on Alastor.

An ex-serial killer. A cannibal. 

He lived in New Orleans. He was a radio host who dabbled into voodoo.

He wore all red. Red was a symbol of  _ power  _ in New Orleans voodoo. 

It became an obsession. A part of you was aware of how disgusted he would have felt if he found out, but that only resolved your motivation to never let him know. 

You were at constant war with yourself, wanting to be close and at the same time, as far away as you possibly could from him. 

\---

Brooke nearly shot Alastor’s head off during the New Years Party. You didn’t know whether to be horrified or to laugh uncontrollably. 

You weren't laughing when Brooke screams hysterically and asks if anyone would care if Alastor raped her. And you certainly weren't when she transforms into her full demon form and knocks herself unconscious. 

\---

The weeks pass by. You’re on your way to check up on Brooke when you stop at the sight of Alastor and her leaving the hotel.

He’s so unbelievably handsome in his black suit. And Brooke…

She’s vibrating with joy, the little pom-pom on her hat bounces with every step.

...wait, what... _ wait - WHAT??? _

\---

Brooke doesn’t sleep alone that night. 

You’re the one who’s kept awake, confused and scared when your hands start to shake at the muffled sounds of ecstasy. 

\---

“It’s a nice night.” He made no noise as he approached. You narrowed your eyes at him from the corner of your eyes, you recognized his smug face from anywhere.

“Hello to you too, Vox.” you murmured, sipping from your glass. “What are you doing here?”

“It’s an open night for the hotel,” he held his hands behind his back.“Just dropping by to say Hello.”

“Alastor will wipe the floor with you if he so much as sees you.” 

“Maybe  _ if  _ he sees me.” he shrugged. “But I prefer to stay in the shadows tonight...much like yourself.”

“That’s new.”

“I’m branching out.” 

You didn’t bother hiding the scoff into your drink. 

“Speaking of branching out…” he gestured over to Alastor and Brooke, both enjoying their time at the party. “Alastor seems to have done a bit of that too. Since when did he ever love?”

You shrugged, feigning boredom. “Hell froze over, I suppose.”

Vox is quiet for a moment, before he speaks again.“You’re upset.” His voice is shocked and maybe impressed. 

“What? No I’m not?” you argued, voice rising higher. 

“Ohhhh a love triangle.” His voice purred in a constant, smooth drawl. The exact opposite of Alastor’s usual boisterous, energetic tone. It unnerved you. “How  _ interesting _ .”

“It’s not.” you spat. “ _ There’s nothing. _ ”

“Well you’re not acting like it’s nothing, you look like you’re gonna break your hand.” 

You flexed your fist at your side, letting blood flow through it again. “It’s nothing.” you insist.

“Whatever you say,” he flattened his suit out. “But please,” he placed a hand on your shoulder, whispering in your ear. “Let me know when you get tired of being some side character, won’t you?”

He left in a flash of light. Your chest heaved as you drank, and rode your river of denial all the way until you passed out. 

\---

Each second they spent together stirred up irrational emotions. Anger, sadness...

Jealousy. 

Which was ridiculous. It wasn’t right or even logical. You could count the number of times Alastor had spoken to you on one hand. You two barely had any relations. 

Alastor and Brooke just...grew on each other, and had a connection and trust. 

But did it stop you from feeling like your heart was being crushed each time you saw them?

No.

He was so in love with her, it hurt. 

It hurt you how you’d love nothing more but to admire him sitting still, chest rising and falling faintly as the light from the windows caught on the tufts of his hair. It hurt that you’d never get to run your hand along his jaw, or the delicate cartilage of his ears. It hurt that he’d never crave the touch of your hand down his spine, feeling each vertebrae carefully before coming to a stop at his tail. 

It hurt that you liked him, and he’d never feel a crumb of emotion in his heart for you.

Brooke was your...you hesitated to call her your friend - but she was important to you. You were so scared of the unknown abyss she’d gotten herself into.

Alastor’s was in Brooke’s grasp, permanently. She didn’t even know the consequences of being in possession of such a thing, she didn’t even  _ know  _ she possessed his heart. 

You were scared of what she could do to Alastor, you were scared of what Alastor could do to her. 

_ You were scared of what could happen to everyone else because of them. _

\---

“Do you think Alastor is using me?” Brooked asked. She had come to you with urgency in her voice, fear in her movements and a bottle of lotion in her hands.

“Odds are yes,” you recite after shaking an 8-ball. 

“ _ Can you be serious here?  _ This is important.” 

“I  _ am  _ serious,” you put the ball down on the table you’re sitting on. “Alastor is an overlord. A sadistic tyrant who does what he wants-”

“ _ He’s not a tyrant _ -” 

“He toppled overlords who’d been dominant for  _ centuries  _ overnight. He came to the hotel, asserted himself and changed the  _ name _ .” You narrowed your eyes. “He’s a tyrant. A dealmaker who exploits the naive. What makes you think ‘love’ is in his vocabulary?” 

She bit her lip. “Because I’ve been with him.”

“Uhh, ok. You’ve known him for what, a couple of months? Do you think you know everything about him? Do you know anything about his history or what he’s even done to get as powerful as he has? Do you even know what he  _ does _ ?”

“Do  _ you _ ?”

“No,” you admitted. “But I’m willing to bet I know more than you.”

She sighed, worryingly rubbing her scalp before she stood up. “Right…”

“Wait, Brooke,” she stopped, but her eyes were still knitted together with worry. “That doesn't mean- What  _ I think _ means nothing if Alastor is being genuine.” A little speckle of hope twinkled in her eyes. 

“ _ But _ ,” because there always is one. “If he is genuine, are you still willing to love him knowing the weight of his sins?  _ Can you still love him? _ ”

She remained still, just staring at the floor. You could only imagine what she was thinking. You hated causing her stress but she needed to know. 

“Just....keep that in mind. Please, ok?” 

She nodded. “Ok.” she sounded like she was reciting from a script rather than actually saying it. She closed the door gently behind her as she left. 

You sunk low into your chair with a sigh. The die in the 8-ball shimmered and twisted in the cascading rays of light mockingly. 

\---

Alastor had left.

A resignation letter was presented out of nowhere, and then  _ poof _ . Not even a word to Nifty or Husker.

You had thought Brooke had left with him and the two had decided to elope or move in, or  _ whatever _ . But upon investigation, you found Charlie exiting Brooke’s room (Or Brooke and Alastor’s room, formally)

“What’s wrong?” you asked.

Charlie bit her lip. “It’s Alastor… he and Brooke got into a fight.” 

Oh. Wow

You felt guilty about not completely feeling bad. It kinda had to happen...Or at least you tried to convince yourself. 

“I see...Is she alright?”

“She needs to rest,” Charlie sighed, looking tired herself. “I’d give her some space.”

“I just wanna talk to her for a minute - I’ll be quick, I promise,” you added on when Charlie frowned.

She nodded, stepping out of the way for you to slowly enter the room. It was dreary and dark with the curtains drawn over the windows. Brooke was curled up on her bed, blankets wrapped tightly around her. You settled down on the bed carefully.

“Hey.”

She didn’t respond, you couldn’t blame her. You could feel the raw pain radiating from her. 

“I’m sorry to hear what happened,” you started, softly. “I’m not going to force you to talk about it. But just know-”

A million different things popped in your head that you wanted to say.

_ It’s not the end of the world.  _

_ It’s your fault for jumping too quickly. _

_ Get up and keep moving forward. _

_ You will be ok. _

“-don’t...don’t ever compromise who you are for someone else.”

True to your word, you left as soon as you came. Ignoring the voice in the back of your head that said you were a hypocrite, for everything you said and thought. 

\---

Barely two weeks later, the love birds were back together. You were less than thrilled, and it was getting harder and harder to live like this. 

You didn’t think you were ‘better’ or  _ whatever  _ for Alastor, or ‘knew what was best’ for Brooke. You were just concerned and sad, mourning something that never existed in the first place. 

You felt pathetic, disgusting, weak. Each time a wave of jealousy came up, it was only followed by an even bigger feeling of guilt, shame or self-hatred.

So you stood by, and allowed it to happen. Because despite how you felt, you knew Brook and Alastor were happy. They loved each other. You could never hope to separate that if they were truly happy.

The Hazbin Hotel used to be your home, a place where you had hope for the future. 

Now it was your own personal hell, a thousand times worse than what you experienced in the past. 

\---

While helping Charlie clean up around the Hotel, you heard your name being called. You turned to see Brooke eagerly approaching you, albeit a bit nervous. 

“ Comment ça va?” she asked. Her pronunciation isn’t bad, but her tongue is accustomed to the words and she stumbles through the sentence awkwardly. 

“ _ Bein. Et vous? _ ” You set the box down and placed your hands on your hips, turning to face her completely.

Her eyes widened momentarily in shock. “Uhh...Ça va…” she struggles to find the right word. Her hands move side to side in the air. “Comment dit-on…” 

“ _ Comme ci comme  _ ça?”

“Oui.” 

“ _ Pourquoi _ ?” 

“French is hard.” she rubbed her temples. “Speaking in french is hard.”

“Not bad for a beginner.” you offered.

“I didn’t expect you to know...so much,” she laughed. “You’re good.”

You really,  _ really  _ try not to act like an asshole. Brooke isn’t the one to blame for the fire you feel under your skin. It’s yourself. It still doesn’t help the bitter taste that forms in your mouth and the shame you feel because of it.

“What, you spoke to someone in french not expecting them to speak it back?” you cleared your throat, realizing how harsh you sounded regardless. “I’m far from being fluent. I just kinda...picked it up I guess. When’d you start learning?”

“Not too long ago-”  _ Obviously _ , a wicked voice in your head thinks. “ Al’s been teaching me,” she rolled her eyes. “He’s always on me now about reading this or that, conjugating this or that...ugh...” 

Wow, how horrible that must be, to have someone like Alastor, a man who’s never done anything for anyone but himself, being your private teacher. Study sessions broken up by kisses and cuddles, or to have Alastor whispering words in french to you throughout the day. During breakfast, for a walk, lounging on the couch, late at night. 

_ La tasse, l’arbe, le chapeau, la lune _

_ Mon Amour.  _

“Lucky you.” you croaked, trying desperately to fight back the bitterness in your throat. 

\---

“What’s your problem?”

Something snaps. As does anything when it’s been pulled too tightly. 

You found yourself unable to think, to breathe, to even look at Alastor or Brooke anymore without being overwhelmed by waves of emotion. The overwhelming sensations and different emotions made your ears hurt. 

“Drop it, Brooke,” you warned. “If you know what’s good for you.”

“No.” She glared at you. “You’ve been acting so pissy lately,  _ what’s wrong with you? _ ”

You clenched your teeth at her words. Oh, everything is wrong. “Brooke. Please.”

“Don’t act as if I don’t notice the way you’ve changed. I’m not stupid!”

You spun around, unable to hold your tongue back. “Oh so then leaping into a relationship with  _ The Radio Demon _ without looking was smart, then? Tell me how that worked out for you?”

“Is  _ that  _ what you’re upset about? God.  _ Look _ , I know it was stupid, but it was my decision to make-”

“And how often does that change, huh? Every week, every two days? You don’t learn, you just keep steamrolling through life like it’ll fucking work -  _ it doesn’t. _ ”

“I know that! And I am trying my best to learn, but Hell hasn’t been easy-”

“It hasn’t been easy? You haven’t even gotten to experience a  _ fraction  _ of what hell is like!” 

“Why are you acting like it’s my fault!?” Her pupils are thinning more than usual, her building frustration making her words louder. “ _ I’m sorry _ my life hasn’t been completely miserable since arriving in HELL.” 

“That’s not my point and you know it.”

“So what  _ is  _ your point?!”

“I-” you dug your nails into your head with frustration. Truly what were you upset about? The fact that she was with Al? No - ok  _ maybe  _ a little but that didn’t warrant your outburst. Was it that she was lucky, to have fallen down right into the plush comfort of an overlord while you had to struggle?

Or was it just your own heartache and self-depreciation being deflected at someone else?

“Something the matter?” Alastor’s voice cut off whatever thought you were going to say. He came up behind you, making a bolt of ice shoot down your spine. He placed a hand high on your back, between your shoulder blades. “ _ Or do we have an issue here? _ ”

“Not at all,” you said flatly, jerking yourself away from Alastor. He raised his eyebrows and his lips came together in a tight smile. “We were just finished talking.

“No, you’re-”

“ _ Brooke _ ,” your voice was coarse and exhausted. Exhausted of feeling and talking. “Please. I need some air.”

You hurried out of the room, fighting back hot tears and bile in your stomach.

“That was odd, wasn’t it, sharkling?” Alastor hummed, unperturbed. 

Brooke can’t manage a weak smile. 

\---

Trying to avoid someone who works with you is tough, but not impossible. Since Brooke resigned from the cleaning team, she spent most of her time in other places helping Charlie or out shopping. So it was relatively easy to avoid her. Mealtimes were a bit tougher, but you’d usually sneak down for food before meals or in the dead of the night.

You were on the balcony again a few weeks later when the same neighbouring door opened. Your eyes caught her golden ones and you both froze in place. 

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

An uncomfortable silence stretched between the two of you. Why was it so quiet all of a sudden?

“Nice night,” Brooke coughed.

“Mhm,” 

_ Silence _ .

“I’m sorry I got angry at you last ti-”

“I’m sorry I made you upset-”

You both stop, embarrassed .

“Sorry, go ahead,” you flushed.

“So, I don’t know what- I don’t know if-” Brooke groaned, pulling at her hair. “I forced you into talking when you told me you didn’t want to. I’m sorry. It was wrong, it was all my fault-”

“Oh god no,” You interrupted. “I should be the one saying sorry. It was being rude and I lashed out at you-”

“But you wouldn’t have if I had just respected your wishes-”

“ _ Brooke _ ,” You stopped her spiel. You knew she’d run herself in circles if she continued. Alastor and her were slightly similar in that way. Alastor always verbally babbled on and on, while Brooke silently rambled and panicked internally. “I appreciate it. But part of the blame is still on me. I was harbouring a lot of negativity and bad feelings...You were right, I was acting like a bitch towards you. I’m sorry.”

“Right, uh,” she laughed nervously. “Right, I’m sorry as well...Are you still upset?”

“...A bit,” you answered truthfully. “But not at you. I don’t want to be mad or upset with you.”

“Me neither.”

She pulled a chair out to sit on it and tucked her feet underneath her. A more comfortable - but still a bit awkward - silence settled in the air. It was a rather clear night, the clouds above parted ever so slightly to reveal a faint haze of blue high in the sky. 

Heaven.

“So how are things with Alastor?” You asked. “Good, I hope?”

“Yeah. Yeah we’re good.” She stared at the clouds with you. “Love’s not like a book, not from the books I remember at least-”

“Maybe  _ A Series of Unfortunate events? _ ” You teased. Brooke snorted, some of the tension eased in your chest. 

“-anyways my point is, it’s hard. Especially having a unique relationship like me and Al. There are always special challenges or things you can’t foresee. But we work around them together, and we’re happy to be each other’s companion.”

“That’s great...if you’re happy, I’m happy. You’re an adult, you can make decisions about love for yourself.” 

You continued talking back and forth endlessly, losing track of time. When your eyes started to burn and your hands began to ache from the chill, you decided to go in. 

“It’s getting late,” You yawned. 

“Yeah, it is.”

“Well uh,” you gave a weird wave thing. “Goodnight. Nice talk.”

Who the hell says ‘nice talk’? You kicked yourself.

“Wait! Before you go,” Brooke pipped up suddenly. “I, uh. I wanted to say thank you.” She took a deep breath and then jumped over to your balcony. Memories from the first time she jumped, more hesitant, more scared, came flooding back. She hugged you suddenly, hiding her face in your shoulder. 

“Maybe one day I’ll realize it’s all a big joke - about me and Al - or come to my senses, or whatever. But right now, I’m going to have faith in him. In us….For whatever it’s worth, thanks for...y’know, not uh, being so understanding.”

You felt no bitterness in your soul when you gave her a crushing hug back. “You’re welcome. Thank you too, for not hating me.”

Your cheeks are flushed red when you both let go, a giddy smile on your face. 

“Oh...I guess I have to, uh,” suddenly sheepish again as she clamoured less gracefully back over to her balcony. “Yeah, anyways, uh goodnight!” 

She tripped over the door frame as she hurried back into her room. You smiled, remembering the same girl who came to the hotel in rags and dirt smudged on her face. Brooke felt like a completely different person. 

The Hazbin Hotel was starting to feel like home again.

\---

As much as you wished the melancholic feelings would have gone away entirely, they still persisted. Less intense, and leaning more towards disappointment and depression rather than jealousy or anger. It wasn’t as intense as it used to be, but when you were occasionally overwhelmed, you’d take a walk to an old swingset outside of the hotel. It was the same area where Brooke had gotten her insides torn up so long, long ago. The blood had been worn clean from the dirt and concrete. 

“Is this seat taken?” 

You double-take when you see Alastor standing beside you.  You gulped, heart beating out of your chest. “Uh, go ahead.” 

He excitedly mounted the swing next to you, holding onto the rusted chains with each hand. “Quite a work of art, this relic!”

It just looked like a crappy swing in your opinion. “Can I help you?” Alastor hadn’t spoken to you in private a handful of times. They hadn’t been of much importance aside from offering you a deal one time (In which you firmly declined).

His large Cheshire grin shrunk instantly. “I know Vox came to the party.”

Your brain almost shut down at his words. Ice pooled in your stomach and you struggled to find your voice. 

“So I am requesting your assistance,” he continued. 

“Oh….ok…?” you questioned, insanely nervous. 

“Despite my announcement and warning about interfering with my  _ darling, dearest creature _ , Brooke, I fear - No, I know that  _ wretch  _ of a soul named Vox is going to try something.” Alastor had gnashed his teeth at Vox’s very name. “And since you are very well acquainted with my partner, I’d ask that you do not succumb or assist Vox in any way. I won’t show mercy if I deem you a threat.”

Oh, so he was threatening you? Or at least some form of warning.

“Alastor, I assure you,” you said seriously. “Brooke is important to me-” 

_ Andyou’reimportanttome _

“-and you are important to her. I’ll do whatever I can to protect her.”

He hummed in approval. “So, it’s _ a deal _ -” 

“Not a chance.”

“Shame.” He chuckled. “I appreciate your understanding.” he turned to you with his usual wide smile. 

_ ‘Just say ‘thank you’ you dork.’  _ you thought. 

“...I also have to bring up,” his smile was strained again. Uh oh. “I overheard part of your conversation with Vox.”

Just when you were beginning to relax, you immediately tensed up again. Pure panic rushed in your ears.

“While I am flattered you think of me in such a-”

Oh, fuck oh shit-

“ _ NO. NO. NO _ ,” you cut him off, hot shame flooding every inch of your body. “We are not having this conversation.”

“But-”

“ _ No- _ ”

“I really think-”

“ **_No-_ ** ”

“I just wanted to say-”

“Alastor. I am begging you,” your voice was on the verge of breaking. Tears threatened to burst from your eyes. You felt like you were on fire. “Please.  _ Please _ . Don’t say anything. Not right now.”

You wanted to go die in a hole, you wanted to curl up in a ball and never see the light of day again. Fuck, this was the absolute worse. Alastor stood still, not even swinging his legs as the tortuous experience continued. It was an agonizing 5 minutes before he got up. He cleared his throat, twirling his microphone between his fingers to occupy his hands. 

“...the extermination is fast approaching. It’ll be my darling’s first experience with one, as I’m sure you know...but if you could,” he stopped, a bit unsure of how to correctly word his request. “Be there for her, she values your support. I’ll make sure the hotel is kept safe and sound, it’s after all in my protection. You and all the other  _ lovely  _ occupants have nothing to worry about.” 

His words sounded far away and muffled, not only from his natural static. You gave him some semblance of a nod. 

By the time Alastor had walked away, your panic had subsided somewhat. You leaned your head against the chains of the swing as tears slowly trickled down your cheeks. You’d give anything to just be able to  _ let go  _ of your feelings _. _

God, you wished the extermination was today, so the sky could swallow you whole and you could disappear.  Dread settled in with the realization that things were going to be very _awkward_ around the hotel now…

At least Brooke and Alastor were still a part of your life. You hung onto that small scrap of positivity tightly. 

You started humming to yourself, swinging back and forth slowly. It was an old song you’d sometimes sing to brighten up your day or to calm yourself. 

_ Smile though your heart is aching _

_ Smile even though it's breaking _

_ When there are clouds in the sky _

_ You'll get by _

  
  


This was fine. It wasn’t fine. But it would be.

_ Light up your face with gladness _

_ Hide every trace of sadness _

_ Although a tear may be ever so near _

It would be fine.

_ That's the time _

_ You must keep on trying _

_ Smile, what's the use of crying _

_ You'll find that life is still worth-while _

_ If you just smile _

**Author's Note:**

> Hazbin hotel belongs to Vivziepop. Brooke and some of the plot events belong to the dapper dresser fanfic. 
> 
> french translations:  
> "How are you"  
> "Good. And you?"  
> "Uh...I'm... How do you say...?"  
> "So-so?"  
> "Yes."  
> "Why?"
> 
> "The cup, the tree, the hat, the moon. My love."  
> \---  
> the part about alastor dressing in red is a hc, as with most things I write.  
> Why is Vox there? Simple, I put Vox in everything I write now. end of story. 
> 
> The more I wrote the more this became a Brooke/ reader fic. whoops.  
> This was basically the product of 'I wanted to babble about the events of DD like it's cannon', the fic.  
> 'Light's out' and 'a deals a deal' are still my fav. 
> 
> There was also gonna be another fight with Brooke showing off her powers, and a scene where Alastor nearly goes sicko mode on the reader, but i had to cut it because it didn't flow properly. Might make another drabble because I have ideas for everyone's OC's except my own.
> 
> oh, and the song is 'smile' by Sammy Davis jr. It's always sounded secretly sad to me, so i threw it in 
> 
> Thanks for reading! Go read DD if you haven't. 
> 
> tumblr/ twitter: comfeyworks


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